


of fluffy blankets and secret bases

by whimsyappletea



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire | Pokemon Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire Versions
Genre: Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Time Skips, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 15:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6290392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsyappletea/pseuds/whimsyappletea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Shush, you. I’m checking your temperature, silly.”</p>
<p>—a progression of their relationship, simple and sweet. MitsuruHaruka.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of fluffy blankets and secret bases

**Author's Note:**

> this is less of a story and more of... snippets, maybe? its actually based off sexysilverstriders headcanons on tumblr since this was written for her birthday last year. she usually refers to them as wally and haruka but for the sake of consistency i just used mitsuru haha

.  
.  
.

“Um, it’s perfectly fine, I can just—”

“No, I insist you stay, I don’t want you to—”

“B-but I have—”

“Mitsuru,” she says finally, her voice soft but firm. “It’s only for the night.” There’s an earnest, insistent glow to her gaze, and he wonders, not for the first time, if he can ever say ‘no’ to this girl.

.

**of fluffy blankets and secret bases**  
_it’s senpai’s born-day!_

.

He ducks his head to hide a rising blush, but suspects she can tell anyway. “Well—alright, then,” he mumbles, even though it’s not. The sun has long since set, and Haruka’s secret base has become a study of shadow, the darkness unravelling like ribbons and enveloping them both.

It’s not the first time Mitsuru’s been here, but it’s certainly the first to stay this late—and now, overnight.

Haruka is completely unaware of his apprehension, busying herself by arranging the army of pokémon plushies in a haphazard arc near the edge of the large bed. “At least our pokémon can sleep comfortably here,” she says brightly, tucking their two belts of pokéballs into the small arc with wordless care. Briefly Mitsuru considers telling her to let them out, but his nerves have been completely shot and he can barely even walk straight without tripping over the carpet.

Of course she notices this, and her hand immediately shoots out to steady him. “Woah, are you feeling alright?” The girl asks, slightly alarmed, eyes searching his face for any sign of discomfort. “See, this is why I don’t trust you to fly back home by yourself—the air is cold tonight, and I don’t want you to fall sick!”

He scolds himself inwardly for causing her to worry. “I-I’m fine. It’s just kinda dark, y’know—mmph?!”

Haruka had been guiding him to the bed when she’d suddenly kicked the back of his knees lightly, startling him and causing him to fall into the soft bed-sheets face-first. “There ya go!” She grabs the thick, fluffy blankets and throws them over them both. Without further ado, the girl nestles into his side, grinning with pride at her own quick thinking. “You should be fine now, heheh!”

“Jeez...”

Mitsuru shakes his head wryly despite his embarrassment, and smiles.

.

Haruka marvels at the sleeping boy before her, her eyes tracing the features she knows by heart—his hair, soft and green; his eyelashes, long and delicate; his hands, small yet steady. In the still of the night she can faintly make out his lips parting slightly, taking slow, deep breaths in his sleep.

And yet, she knows he’s changing, bit by bit—from the shoulders, once thin and sickly, growing a little broader and sturdier; to the cheeks, slowly but surely losing their baby fat.

Without thinking, Haruka leans close to weave her fingers through her boyfriend’s hair, and she can’t help but wonder: Where’s the boy she’d met when she was fifteen, blushing and stammering for her to come and help her catch a pokémon?

She blinks when something bops her on the nose lightly, the secret base bed’s weight shifting.

“Haru?” Mitsuru asks, his voice husky from sleep. He withdraws his hand to rub the sleep crust out of one eye, his bleary-eyed stare trained intently on her. “Is it one of those nights again?”

“Yeah,” Haruka admits quietly. It’s hard to fall asleep when you always see images flash across your eyelids, of monsters under the bed and in her head, nightmares coming alive like a pop-up in a storybook.

Mitsuru knows, but she hates to bother him—from experience, Mitsuru does _not_ function well when he doesn’t get enough sleep. No way does she want a repeat of the land-and-miss-into-the-water Sootopolis incident, man.

A mildly disapproving sigh. “We talked about this,” he says softly, as if he’d guessed her train of thought. “I honestly don’t mind if you wake me up, or if I lose an hour or two of sleep. Not now, not ever.

“Because I... well. I, um—I really, _really_ don’t want to see you bear this burden alone, Haru. Please.”

_Ah_ , she thinks distantly, watching him fumble with his words and cover his face with his hands, even though she can’t see his flushed cheeks in the darkness. _He’s still the same boy._

_Mitsuru is right here._

Haruka nudges him between the shoulder blades, and obligingly he rolls over, knowing what she wants. Once his back is to her, she throws an arm around him, her body curling against his. It’s a little awkward, since he has grown a bit taller than her now, but neither of them really mind.

The weight of his hand is reassuring in her own, and the girl whispers: “Thank you.”

His thumb runs over her fingers soothingly in reply, and she closes her eyes.

.

“It’s _cold_ ,” she complains as she pulls the thick, fluffy blankets up, wrapping them around herself and curling into a shivering little ball.

Mitsuru laughs a little, leaning over to inspect his girlfriend’s collection of pokémon plushies. He straightens, waving a swablu doll in front of her face playfully. “Now you look like this little fella.”

“I take that as a compliment,” Haruka declares, winking and sticking her tongue out at him. “Swablus are hella cute, don’t ya think?”

The boy lowers the doll. Outside the secret base, he can hear both their pokémon teams chattering excitedly, catching up from the last time they’d seen one another. It’s been a while since Mitsuru had come to visit, after all, since he’d been gotten too engrossed in battling at the Battle Resort again.

He tilts his head to take her in—this precious girl who battles like no one else can, who accepts him despite his illness, who treasures him as much as he treasures her. This precious, precious girl who loves him exactly the way she treats everything important to her—with everything she’s got.

His eyes soft and smile even softer, Mitsuru says, “Yeah.”

Haruka beams, using her arms to hold the fluffy material up like a mini-fort and beckoning for him to join her. When he crawls over, she tugs with all her might, sending them both sprawling across the bed in a tangled mess of limbs and blankets.

“I didn’t really think that one through,” the girl admits, her breathless laughter tickling his ear as she props herself up on his chest. Her hair is mussed and her clothes are creased, but the blue of her gaze shine like wildfire.

“No,” he comments idly as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, trying to pretend his face isn’t burning up like her eyes. “You really didn’t. Any other bright ideas, Haru?”

Her grin gains a mischievous edge. “Well,” she says slowly. “Well, I’m glad you asked. Since you just recovered from a fever last night, I suppose I have to monitor you today, don’t I.”

Mitsuru swallows, watching as Haruka’s face draws closer, closer, closer. _This can’t be good for my heart_ , he thinks faintly, barely daring to breathe as she presses kisses along the insides of his wrists, the hollows of his collarbones.

“Haru,” he tries to protest, but it comes out as a throaty croak instead. “Haru, I—”

“Shush, you,” the girl murmurs, and the gentle nips she leaves on the base of his neck feel like there are sparks going off under his skin. “I’m checking your temperature, silly.”

Trying to hide his face proves futile since she moves his hands away each time, so he just lies back and lets her do as she pleases, feeling the tips of his ear heat as she runs her fingers through his hair, trails them along his jaw, his hips, his thighs.

Finally, Haruka cups her face in her hands, eyes half-lidded, and presses her lips to his. It’s gentle yet passionate, and it makes his heart sing, makes him realize just how much he loves this girl.

They part for air, both trying to steady their own breathing. The sun is about to rise, and Haruka’s secret base has become a study of ethereal glow, the sunlight streaming in and illuminating them both.

“Hi,” says Mitsuru quietly, the corner of his mouth quirking up as his hands slide down to her waist.

“Hi,” returns Haruka almost shyly, tangling her legs with his with the raise of her eyebrows.

He rests his forehead against hers, and draws her in for another kiss.

.  
**owari.**  
.  
.  
.

**Author's Note:**

>  **disclaimer:** i do not own Pokémon.


End file.
